


should I stay or should I go

by volchitza



Category: Stranger Things (Netflix), Stranger Things - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:59:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7545961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volchitza/pseuds/volchitza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-finale, a month after Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	should I stay or should I go

**Author's Note:**

> I might or might not continue, but I figured I'd post it since there's only one other fic for the fandom on the entire archive…

Nancy hears the front door opening, downstairs, and, faintly, the sound of Jonathan’s grainy voice with her mother’s.

“Wait!” she shouts from her room, getting up from the desk; she runs down, her sock-covered feet thumping on the steps; when she gets at the bottom of the stairs, her heart is racing and she feels a little breathless, smiling at Jonathan.

“Hey,” she says, her hand clutching the knob at the end of the handrail. Her mother is gone already, fussing over her little sister in the other room.

“Hey,” he replies, sticking his thumbs in his pockets.

_ I just wanted to say hi, actually, _ is already on her lips, and  _ I’ve been thinking about you, _ but she bites her tongue and says, instead: “Would you like to come up for a minute?”

He’s speechless, then shoots a look towards the corridor, where her parents live their loveless, routine-filled lives in separate rooms.

“They won’t even notice, I promise,” she answers his unformed question, then turns to go back upstairs, light on her feet, this time, and he follows, with his head bent to watch the corridor.

He’s been there before, but something - entering through the door, perhaps, the weeks of barely seeing her, after everything - leaves him stiff, his shoulders hunched.

She smiles, lifting some of that weight off him. They sit on the edge of her bed, close; he still smells of the winter air outside, his clothes cold against her skin.

“How was Christmas?” she asks, watching him.

“Happy,” he answers, “less lights up than last time you’ve been around, though.” He glances sideways, then, to catch her laughing briefly. “Chief Hopper even came by, on Boxing Day, and mom made him stay for lunch. The camera was great, by the way, I even got some good shots of Will.”

“How’s he holding up?”. Her voice sounds somber in the silence, upstairs; concerned. It sounds sweet, he thinks.

“Sometimes I think he’s doing great. Other times… I feel like he’s putting on a brave face.”

Her heart closes like a fist.

Nancy would like to say something, but the words ball up in her mouth, leaving her with nothing but her parted lips.

She takes his hand, instead, pretending not to notice the little shudder of surprise in him - and turns it with the palm facing up. She likes the angle his thumb makes towards his wrist, a little sharp, drawing a curved line to the outside; she refrains from tracing it with her fingertip, touching just the wound on his palm, almost healed.

“Does it still hurt?”

He shakes his head, telling her “No, not anymore.”

Jonathan takes her hand, observing the slender palm, the thin red line of her knife wound. His fingers brush against the soft skin on the back of her hand, opening against his.

“It burns a little when I bend it, or try to write, but it’s going away,” she says, her voice breathy.

His heart is in his throat.

“I better go to my brother,” he says, after a minute.

She nods, before finding her voice. “Yeah. I’ll walk you downstairs.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
